Prologue

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once, a long, long time ago, in the vast past of Runescapes golden ages and the dawn of the ages of war....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The land was prosperous...Beautiful, and Golden. The many people of Runescape spoke the same language; no other language existed at the time. Discrimination did not exist, nor did hatred, destruction, or Sin. This era was known as the Nativity-The time of "Childhood," for the young, growing world of Runescape. As the Nativity era faded away, the dawn of the new era came; the Golden Age of Runescape. Discrimination started to take its toll on the many races, thus resulting in a revolutionary war, in in uninhabited part of Runescape were Lumbridge now stands.

 

 

 

Anyway, the revolution resulted in the deaths of many of the people, and Saradomin was not pleased. People started to turn from him. They started to hate each other, kill and slaughter each other. The Golden age had turned to the Dark Ages of Runescape. There were many battles...But, even in the time of darkness, were all hope faded away from the once happy faces of Runescape...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A new God had appeared.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The new God claimed to be Zamorak, who promised the people even more power and wealth beyond their wildest dreams. The avarice of men is strong indeed; the monks turned away from Saradomin. Many of the devout and strong warriors of Runescape turned away from their once proud God. Thus, the monks and warriors created an alliance known as the Warriors of Zamorak.

 

 

 

The once proud and strong men fell under the strings of the mighty Zamorak. The wealth and luster that man had contained in the land for centuries had failed. The lust for power and greed was very great indeed, for the foolish men and women; but the still proud and devout men of Saradomin's army stood tall, for their families, friends, their homes...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Among these men was a warrior named...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1: Edge

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Fienrir!" The young prince shouted at the man in Dragon armor. Fienrir quickly turned around to see the young Prince Roald, in golden trimmed wizard armor, holding a Saradomin prayer book and a large staff. "I finally caught up to you!" Roald was panting very hard.

 

 

 

"Your not very phisically fit at all." Fienrir said sharply. Fienrir laughed, Roald weezed and panted, trying to laugh, too.

 

 

 

"I haven't seen you in..." Roald started to count with his fingers, still panting hard, "I think two months. You have been training! Look at you, your in Dragon armor, a Gold cape, gold boots, a Dragon two-handed sword, Gold gloves...Need I say more?"

 

 

 

"You've said enough." Fienrir though it was funny how a prince, especially Roald, a young and spoiled prince, admired an outsider such as he. But sometimes he understood; the prince had to stay home and learn how to be like a king, and could never leave the castle, unless he was going with a guard. Fienrir always volunteered. He liked Roald, and to be friends with him meant he wouldn't have to treat him any different from any other person in the land. At least, thats what Roald told him.

 

 

 

"I'm sorry that I'm excited...But being one of my only adventurous friends, I like to hear whats going on in the outside world." So Fienrir told him. He told him of the mighty Dust Devils, the Kalphinite Queen, the Lesser and Greater demons, and the other dangerous monsters that he killed in cold blood. He told him of his techniques of becoming rich (although they never worked). He then told him of the uprising of the Zamorak warriors.

 

 

 

He thought for a second, and was partially reluctant in saying anything of the Zamorak warriors; especially of the sabotage missions that he had gone on. But Roald had heard rumors of these things, and told Fienrir not to worry about getting in trouble. The two young men looked into the horizon to see a small, yet very clear view of the big city of Edge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When they both arrived into the town, they immediatley looked around for any rare and valuable items, such as amulets, armor of any type, and some food. Fienrir grabbed as much sharks and lobsters and swordfish that his pack could hold, and Roald came back with nothing but a small, black amulet.

 

 

 

"What's this!" Fienrir gasped to the site of the Amulet of Fenrir (or what would be called an amulet of fury now). "Roald, how did you get-"

 

 

 

"It's for you, and don't worry about paying me back; you needed an amulet, and the man said this one would be the best. When I enchanted it, it was like controlling the spirit of Fenrir myself; take it. You rightfully deserve it." Fienrir took it without any question. He looked at the magnificent beauty of the onyx amulet, and suprisingly, he saw the enchantment as clear as the dark night sky, for the amulet was as red as fire in the center of the amulet, glowing as the flames of his heart raged inside himself.

 

 

 

"I cannot thank you enough." He said as he strung it around his neck. Roald just nodded and grinned at the gleaming eyes of Fienrir. But through the moment of peace and tranquility, a booming voice made them both jump off the ground: "ALL OF YOU MAGGOTS WHO WISH TO JOIN THE ARMY REPORT TO THE BASE IMMEDIATLEY...NO COMPLAINTS!" Fienrir knew who this man was. He was General Skiff, the attack-tactics general for the army of Runescape.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At least two-hundred thousand men stood inside a very cramped tent (about the size of a circus tent, but with no seats) all with adamant or rune armor on. As Fienrir entered the tent, many of the envious and jealous faces of the warriors around him watched as he entered the tent. Did I forget to mention that he was famous? Well, Fienrir had a very well known reputation around Runescape as the only warrior to get Dragon armor, and a two-handed sword. His reputation was spread far across the land, and he was the most powerful man in Runescape.

 

 

 

"ATTENTION!" Genral Skiff came into view. He was in Gold trimmed rune armor, a gold cape, and no helmet. His long blonde hair was wildly spread across his back, and his mustache was very thick. He glanced at Fienrir, then signaled him over as soon as everyone hushed

 

 

 

When he stepped up onto the stage, the envious faces of the jealous men faded away, and they looked at him with serious faces, respecting him highly and listening intently.

 

 

 

"Everyone," he said in a projected voice, "the monks of Saradomin have turned away from us all. They now seek refuge deeper into the Golden lands of Vad'Idlien, in a reatreat in the secluded mountains. They are worshipping a new God, one who calls himself Zamorak. Some of you have heard of this, some of you may not have. But none of you have heard of this part of the news." Fienrir took a deep breathe, "They have threatened to destroy all parts of our prosperous lands, from Edge all of the way to Falador. This means only one thing..." He took a long pause, then grimly smiled, his eyes burning like a torch. He gripped the handle of his sword, and drew it from its sheath from his back, then rested it across his right shoulder. "War."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2: Zamorak's Terrorists

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Every man in the tent froze. Some even started to bawl, like frightened and confused kids. None of them have ever been to war before, let alone a battle as big as this would be.

 

 

 

"EVERY ONE! GET OVER IT!" A strange energy gathered around his sword, and, grabbing it with both hands, he swung it with immense power, letting out a shock wave across the tent. He then withdrew his blade. Everyone was silent, no longer shken but shocked back into the world. He sighed, the continued: "You must believe in yourself. If one believes in himself, then that man will unlock a power never intended to be revealed. Acting frightened isn't going to stop the war. It's just gonna show those warriors that we are vulnerable, that we can be destroyed easily. Right now, I have noticed that there are a couple of spies from Zamorak right now." Fienrir slowly walked off the stage, slowly walking down the rows of the men.

 

 

 

"You are probably thinking 'Thats absurd, he knows nothing.' But believe me..." Fienrir stopped at a nervous looking man, "I can tell the protagonists from the antagonists!" He drew his sword and swung at the defensless man, knocking him back-wards into another man behind him. The rest of the row was smart enough to dodge the domino affect that almost came into play. He walked up to the two injured and young men, panting on the ground, both very frightened.

 

 

 

"We weren't doing anything!Honest!"

 

 

 

"Thats all I needed to hear. I can tell right through your petty little act. Remove their helms." To other men walked up and unasked the young men to reveal hideously burned faces. "Nighty-night, frauds." With the sword, he stabbed through the armor of one, killing him instantly. The other quickly got up and pulled out a spell book.

 

 

 

"KEFMIN!" A burst of flames shot from his hands, and Fienrir dodged it without fault. But he didn't realize he wasn't the target; the tent immediatley started to spread the flames up to the tip of it, and through his own fault of not paying attention he was struck really hard in the leg by a Rune battle-axe. His leg wasn't severly injured, because of his Dragon platelegs. The man attempted to strike Fienrir down, but he evaded the slow moving attack with ease. Drawing his sword, he said a quick prayer to Saradomin, then charged the man. The young man quickly picked up his fallen comrades kite shield, and blocked the enormous power that struck the shield. Suprisingly, the Rune shield dented.

 

 

 

"What power!" He dropped the shield and decided to fight with only the battle axe. Again, Fienrir swung his sword with inhumane spped and strength, and the man only evaded two of the following ten blows. He was extremely weak, but he pulled out his bookand said "EINZAC!" His wounds mended. Fienrir wasn't confused, but these spells never existed in any text he read.

 

 

 

"I can see you ponder were these spells originated from." Fienrir glanced at the man, confused, but not blinded by it. "Yes, these spells are actually created from our God, Zamorak. Oh, what a mighty God he is! He can kill your God Saradomin anytime! I don't know why he just doesn't. Oh, right, because Saradomin doesn't exist!" Fienrir was enraged by this remark. Saradomin was always there, he gave him the strength to become what he was now. He took up his blade, eyes twitching in rage and anger towards the man.

 

 

 

"DON'T...EVER...CALL MY GOD A FAKE! Fienrir mindlessly charged at the man. He started to read from the text again, but the fury of blows that came at him was abnormal. He evaded every attack, except one, which struck his leg. He opened the book to say his spell-But Fienrir knocked the book away from his hands. With some power left in him, the boy struck Fienrir on his back. The man limped for his book, but Fienrir jumped back up. He knew what he had to do.

 

 

 

"EIN-" The boy was stopped by the cracks and slow recession of the building materials. "Nevermind. Time to-"

 

 

 

"Die." Fienrir stabbed the sword into the ground. A small tremor shook the entire Town of edge for ten miles, the tremors great power increasing until the man of Zamorak fell to the ground. A large stab whole now inhabited his chest, and the tremor receded. He knew the sword's special power, attacking many people for a five mile radius. But Fienrir had control over this; and focused the mighty attack on the young man of Zamorak. "Our first attempt of terrorism...So it begins."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3: The Great Divide

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fienrir's head pounded the entire battle. Although he won, he felt a sickening feeling, the feeling you have when you know something has gone horribly wrong. As he walked out of the crumbling tent, he thought about the next plan of attack by the kingdom. Withdrawing his blade, he felt as though a new kind of power inhabited his body, a new type of rejuvination that made his heart pound with excitment. But, when he opened the shudders of the crumbling tent, his heart stopped.

 

 

 

Nobody was there.

 

 

 

He pondered for a moment. He glanced at both sides, scanning each and every crack that could be seen with a human eye. No one. Maybe his attack killed everyone? No. If he did...Then he could no longer be called a warrior. Also, he thought, bodies would be litered all over the ground. So he didn't hurt anyone...But anyone would have the same feeling that was probably running through his mind: Were in the Hell is everyone?

 

 

 

"HELP!" A sudden cry pierced the sudden darkened sky, a high pich screech that sounds like finger nails scratching a chalkboard. Fienrir clutched his blade, getting into his battle stance. When the scream receded into the abysall darkness, he ran towards were he heard it.

 

 

 

"HELP! PLEASE!" The frightened soul sounded as though he was about to get slaughtered. But Fienrir stopped, confounded, pondering the possibilities of whom this might be. "Reldo?" Fienrir gently asked.

 

 

 

"Who said that? And help, dammit!"

 

 

 

It's me, and calm down."

 

 

 

"You, whaddaya mean 'you'? And don't tell me what to do!"

 

 

 

"Alright, settle down, it's me, Fienrir."

 

 

 

"Fienrir?" Reldo asked. Fienrir listened to every foot-step that he made running towards him. Then he appeared, face bright red, sweaty, and teary eyed. Fienrir's reaction came quick to his mind: He must have not gotten his own way, the little brat. I can't believe he's related to Reold, sometimes.

 

 

 

"Fienrir, it's truly you. Thank Saradomin..." He was wearing casual clothing, with a weak wooden shield and training sword. Just like Reold, he tried to imitate me when he was playing. But it appeared as if he was attempting to use the sword in the heat of battle...

 

 

 

"I'm glad it's you, too."

 

 

 

"I'M NOT THE LAST MAN ON EARTH ANYMORE!"

 

 

 

"No, it appears im the last man, your the last kid."

 

 

 

"Ha ha, very funny." Reldo tried to act like an adult, but he knew that he was holding in the tears. "Anyway-"

 

 

 

"Hush!" Fienrir cut Reldo off. "I think everyone is back at the-"

 

 

 

"ARRRRRRGH!" Fienrir jumped at the mere sight of a body slamming into a wall of a house, the mans rune armor breaking off, then the house fell, all of the bricks toppling him. Then the sounds of women being terrorized were heard in the distance.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fienrir and Reldo arrived at the most violent and grusome scene of their lives. Half of the town was obliterated. Houses were destroyed. Glass of windows litered upon the bodies that were slain there. Bodies litered every were, though, and many were piled up and lit on fire. The warriors weren't the only thing killed, countless villagers, merchants, and children were slain as well. In the distance, the clasheds of battle-axes and swords meeting each other was heard, along with kite shield meeting the might of two-handed weapons. The sight was horrid, for sole human eyes of the man and teenager, and Fienrir looked at the distant buildings and towers that were crubling at the moment. To think, Fienrir thought, that one distraction could cause this entire mess.

 

 

 

"I joined the battle for a little while. But I could only smash their skulls with my yew sword, and they would be temporarily parylized. I feel so ashamed..." Reldo's knees were too weak to support himself, and he fell to the ground, bawling his eyes out.

 

 

 

"To think...That one damn distraction can cause...This...That attack was only a distraction-" He paused, clutching the handle of his sword, then spat out with anger: "AND I WAS LURED TO IT!" He drew his sword, then ran into the battle, no thoughts running across his mind when he did this. Reldo shouted to him, in an attempt to stop him, but...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fienrir watched himself kill. For the first time, he coldly killed these men that threatened his life. All he could think about was the ursh he got from killing these warriors---He was fine with it. Every single scum of a barbarian that fell beneath his blade was delightful for him. For the first time, he felt the rush of killing human life for revenge, a sacred vow he promised Saradomin he would never do. Each one, begging for mercy, some having the blessing of dying quick, the others left to suffer. But every single one always begged for mercy---None were given any.

 

 

 

"DIE!" Fienrir remembered one barbarian yelling, and in rage cut his left arm off. He pleaded, for his life, for mercy, and Fienrir just said: "What's the point of mercy killing...If you listen to the person bg for mercy, and then you kill them?" After killing that man, there was none left. The others retreated, afraid of death. Fienrir chuckled at the site.

 

 

 

"F-F-Fienrir...H-h-how could y-you?" Reldo appeared, his eyes flooded with tears, his legs trembling. "I remember...Going to the church with you and my brother...You promised Saradomin you wouldn't kill like that! You gave your damn word!" Reldo quietly repeated to himself what he said to him, falling to the ground, and the bawled. Reldo's innocence---The innocence of watching a vengence slaying---Awoke the true Fienrir, calming his wrath. He turned his head, left and right, turning aroung and looking at the mass genocide he had commited, man, women, or child (Barbarians were world renown to allow children into battle). He, too, fell to his trembling knees, then screamed to the Heavens: "What have I done?" Then he passed out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Fienrir...Fienrir..." He heard a slow, soft voice. He opened his eyes. But not in the sense of opening his worldy eyes, but the eyes any man would see if they were in Heaven. But he looked around, and realized that he wasn't in Heaven nor Hell, or whatever the Hell Saradomin worshipers believed in. He was religous, and he couldn't believe what crossed his mind.

 

 

 

"Ha-Ha-Ha! Your thoughts are still clouded with the Heart of Fenrir." The voice was deep, yet soft at the same time. He knew who it was.

 

 

 

"Saradomin?"

 

 

 

"Yes, it is I."

 

 

 

"Whattaya mean 'The Heart of Fenrir'?"

 

 

 

"All will be explained, do not worry." Saradomin laughed, then took a deep breathe, and exhailed. "You see, Fienrir, I want to ask you, why did you break our covenant? You acted out of revenge, instead of realizing that you should of acted out of protection for your friends."

 

 

 

"I...Lost the way. I'm pathetic."

 

 

 

"Your only human, all of you do that time and again. It was written into history since the beginning of time. I knew you wouldn't be able to hold a covenant. But it's okay, you are forgiven."

 

 

 

"Thank-you, Saradomin. But tell me, were am I?"

 

 

 

"It is time for me to explain this all to you. Now, you are in a place known as the Great Divide. It is a sacred place that is in-between both Heaven and Hell. Only a few passer-bys...And I mean people who die here...Are able to come here. Only those with the most pure of hearts.

 

 

 

"Now, I said you had the heart of Fenrir. You see, a long time ago, there was a gigantic wolf that terrorized the lands of Runescape. I locked it in a cage when it commited mass genocide, much like what it did when it controlled you. Anyway, you were born, and I decided it was best to make you the strongest of all Runescapians, and sealed it's hearts in yours. But it seems...Your hearts cannot maintain the power well enough for you to controll when Fenrir comes out.

 

 

 

"When you saw the bodies, Fenrir saw this as a chance to come out and be free. What a better way then to kill things, just as it did all of those centuries ago?"

 

 

 

"Well, it's good to know now..."

 

 

 

"Good, because it is time for you to face the consequences of your actions today. Brace youreslf."

 

 

 

"Thank-you, Saradomin." The voice receded, and the Great Divide faded from his sight.

Wow, I do mean that. It is a very very good peice of work. I definately enjoyed reading it. I like the idea of the Amulet of Fury although it does get a tiny bit distorted as the story continues. I liked the idea of the wolf, and the great divide. In fact nearly all the ideas in the story were very good. I think you must have got slightly confused(Or I did) while writing it though because Roald disappears from the story, and Reldo is no were near Faldor.